


Borne Away With Every Breath

by DarkDreamsOfHannigram, theconsciousdarkness



Series: Therapy [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, Gags, M/M, Oral Sex, Spreader Bars, we will dwell in the house of the season 1 AU forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:32:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDreamsOfHannigram/pseuds/DarkDreamsOfHannigram, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theconsciousdarkness/pseuds/theconsciousdarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is much too reserved when Hannibal pleasures him. There are therapeutic remedies for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Borne Away With Every Breath

Hannibal flicked through the screens of his iPad, reading through various news sites as he sat in bed. He was not alone, however; Will was stretched out next to him dozing, head half-buried in a pillow as he slept. He had the odd habit of sleeping on top of the bedcovers, even when he retired for the night. Hannibal found it strange, but endearing and so he had joined him atop the duvet, rather than beneath it, since he had no intention of sleeping for quite some time.

Dinner had been early that evening; and, with ulterior motives, Hannibal had managed to coax Will upstairs rather than their customary activity of retiring to the sitting room. There was a lingering suspicion he harbored, as the nature of their relationship became more intimate and intertwined, that Will’s shyness was so broad-sweeping that it bordered on painful reservation.  He intended to find out tonight, just how deeply he was affected.

He looked down at the other man, stretched out in relaxation. Not too close as to invade Hannibal’s personal space; neither, however, was he turned on his side away from him.

Will whimpered in his sleep, the noise causing Hannibal to recall, with great delight, the last time he had sucked Will’s cock. He had made that very same noise, before biting his lip to silence himself. Trembling under Hannibal’s touch, he had been engaged, but terribly quiet and reserved.

There was immense satisfaction for Hannibal whenever Will’s troubles escalated to a point where he stepped in to avail him of that distress. His first therapy session, to help him maintain a more focused mindset, had been extremely successful; nevertheless, Hannibal thought it too bore repeating, at some point in the future. What was proper therapy if the tools weren’t reinforced?

Hannibal had no doubt that the results of tonight’s experiment would show that Will was clearly in need of something to break his agonizing inhibition. Slow, simple touching would be all he needed to verify that not only was Will shy while having sex, but in most intimate situations. Hannibal intended to touch Will often - having him so withdrawn would make each experience entirely too frustrating to be enjoyable. He clearly needed to step in to remedy the issue.

And so he began by gently resting his hand on Will’s shoulder, to rouse him slowly from his light nap. He saw no need to wake him abruptly - any sort of sleep or rest seemed a precious commodity for the other man. He wanted him relaxed and compliant, not riddled with his ever-present anxiety. If Hannibal’s small experiment panned out the way he anticipated, there would be plenty of time for Will to engage in more substantial activity later that evening.

Hannibal moved his hand atop Will’s head, fingers stroking slowly through his dark hair. He brushed some of the longer, unruly curls behind Will’s ear as he began to stir beneath the soft touch.

He opened his eyes finally, unresponsive for a moment as he awoke. “Hello, Hannibal,” he replied sleepily, smiling up at the other man.

Hannibal watched as Will stretched and tried to shake off the after effects of his nap. He had borrowed a pair of Hannibal’s silk pajama pants, in place of his less comfortable jeans, and wore one of Hannibal’s older button-down shirts; he tended to sleep in much less, generally, but they hadn’t gotten to that part of the evening. Not yet.

Once Will had settled back, Hannibal touched his hair again. It was unruly at the best of times, and wildly untamed after he’d been sleeping. Even in this, Hannibal found it difficult to abide disorder, and he wanted to initiate physical contact anyway. So he smoothed it again behind his ears, and off of his forehead. Will closed his eyes, smiling, but only just a little. He liked it, it was evident on his face that he did, but as with most forms of pleasurable touching, Will was reticent in showing his appreciation.

After a few moments, Hannibal stopped, and asked him quietly, “Will, I believe we need to address your inhibitions. You hold back, I can clearly see it. I believe you would enjoy it more, and become more connected to your own responses, if you were not so inclined to do this. If you would permit me…I believe I have thought of some techniques to help you overcome this unhelpful tendency.”

“I…I want you to...to keep doing it though...” Will stumbled awkwardly through his unfinished sentence, looking away quickly from Hannibal’s scrutiny, however good-intentioned it was. He grimaced, disappointed with himself.

Hannibal said nothing, but ran the back of his hand down the side of Will’s face before gently grasping his shoulder and pressing him onto his back. Shivering, Will stretched out and turned over as Hannibal slipped his hand under his stolen shirt.

Anticipating that Will’s anxiety was likely to increase once he explained some of what he planned to do, he kept his movements slow and predictable, at least for the moment.

Being touched by Hannibal was such an intense experience; it left Will feeling lightheaded and desperate for more, but unable to vocalize his need. He breathed out slowly, Hannibal’s fingers sliding along his skin as he trailed his hand up his side, caressing softly.

“I’m wasting your time,” Will replied quietly, “it’s too much work.”

Although he paused momentarily, Hannibal didn’t stop what he was doing. He shifted so that he could more easily begin to open the buttons of the shirt. He did so slowly, and didn’t stop as he explained in a careful, measured voice:

“You must know that I do not engage in any activity that is a waste of time, Will. I have been thinking of things that will help you be more open to letting yourself experience pleasure more completely. Part of this is preventing you from being able to close yourself off to me. If you cannot touch me, you cannot push me away.”

Will had been sitting up with his hands braced behind his back. When Hannibal finished unbuttoning the shirt, he pushed it off of Will’s shoulders, effectively trapping his arms behind his back, pinned together loosely in the sleeves. He leaned in to Will’s ear, and said, “first I’ll bind your arms together, behind your back. Just like this.” He pressed his mouth to Will’s pulse, feeling him shudder under the kiss, before letting go.

“Ohh…” Will leant forward slightly, following Hannibal’s movements as he pulled away.

His breath was already quickening, heart pounding in his chest - he made the conscious effort not to struggle, despite the hint of anxiety that bloomed in the back of his mind. Resting back against his arms, determined to please Hannibal, he took a deep breath to calm himself. He looked up at him, smiling slightly as redness colored his cheeks.

“Beautiful,” Hannibal replied, hand kneading Will’s thigh as the silk slid easily along his body. He shuddered at the contact, at the feeling of the cool fabric against his skin. Hannibal’s fingers dipped under the waistband of his pants before trailing back up again.

Will swallowed hard, trying to let himself get lost in the sensation - to be present and engaged as Hannibal had taught him. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, sighing as warm hands smoothed up his chest.

“Will it hurt?” he asked softly after a moment, not knowing how it would feel to have his arms bound behind his back.

“It should not hurt, no. If there is any point at which you experience soreness, you must let me know. But the binding will be gentle, if restrictive.”

Going back to touching the smooth fabric of the pants, Hannibal placed his palms just above Will’s knees, and gently pushed them wider. He lingered there, letting the warmth of his hands absorb through the light material to Will’s skin.

“If you are unable to deny me the ability to touch you, you will be giving up much of the control that is inhibiting you, Will. In addition to binding your arms, I will also prevent you from closing yourself off to me, here -” More insistently now, Hannibal, placed a firmer hold on Will’s knees, as he had reflexively tried to close them.

“A correctly-sized bar placed right here, attached to cuffs right above your knees, will achieve this effect.”

Hannibal kept stroking his thighs, slowly, up and down, until Will seemed to become more relaxed, his breathing regulating. After a few moments, Hannibal leaned into Will’s ear as he had done before, and asked: “Do you think you can do this for me, Will? Are you ready?”

He was light-headed enough that some of his anxiety was dampened; still, he didn’t want to let Hannibal know he was afraid. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to dispel some of his fear by imaging what it would be like when he was bound - Hannibal had restrained him once before, but this felt very different.

Even so, the physical closeness and Hannibal’s words were intoxicating - what started as a tingle across his scalp, shot down Will’s back in a violent shiver. Before he could stop himself, he was moaning softly; he bit his lip to silence the noise, feeling a hot blush inching down his chest.

Not knowing if Hannibal wanted him to move or not, he rested quietly, still tangled in the shirt. Breathing slowly for several moments, he eventually nodded his head.

“Yes,” he said very quietly, “I’m ready.”

Hannibal brushed Will’s hair off of his forehead in a pleasant, if slightly possessive, gesture. Taking Will’s hand, he led him off the bed, guiding him to the bench that sat parallel to the bed. He went over to his large walk-in closet, and seemed to vanish within its depths. After a few moments, which Will spent running scenarios through his head about what exactly was about to be done to him, Hannibal emerged with a few things that Will couldn’t precisely see from his vantage point, most of which he laid upon a chair.

One object, however, was brought to Will’s line of sight immediately, and he assumed, correctly, that it was what Hannibal would be using to bind his arms behind his back. It was a long, tapered, black sheath with adjustable lacings, made of very soft leather. Will assumed, also correctly, that it was quite an expensive and specialized piece of equipment.

“Sit all the way up, Will.”

Hannibal slid in behind Will’s back, kneeling. He gently touched the places where he knew Will’s old injury to be, examining the musculature. He slipped his arms into the sleeve of the binder, making sure to not wrench his shoulders too tightly together, determining where to leave the lacings looser. Two straps joined the front of each section to the back, crossed over at Will’s shoulder blades.

When he was finished, he said, “Lean back. You should be able to place your weight on your hands. Tell me if you are experiencing any discomfort.  The straps should mitigate any pulling at the muscles of your upper back.”

His breathing was already shallow as he barely suppressed the anxiety churning in the pit of his stomach. Worry creased his brow with the realization that being bound in this manner was much different than the first time - this was restraint with purpose, and he felt the weight of that burden as keenly as he did the soft leather that encased his arms.

He leant back slowly, to let his muscles adjust. The binding was tight but gentle, like he had promised, and not painful. An odd sensation settled over him, one of being embraced very tightly, as if Hannibal were holding him firmly in his arms.

The feeling was jarring, something he had never experienced before, and he lost the small amount of eye contact he had maintained. His gaze flitted around the room, falling erratically on various objects while he tried to calm himself. There was the vague recollection that Hannibal had said something to him moments ago; the words came back slowly, and Will swallowed hard, before finally responding.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he said sluggishly, expression dazed as he looked up at Hannibal.

Hannibal tugged lightly at the straps at Will’s shoulders, ensuring they were no more or less restrictive than they needed to be. Satisfied, he stood up.

“I’m glad. You’re doing very well.”

He sat down near to Will’s legs, and began to slowly, deliberately, untie the lacings of the pajama pants, looking down at them as he worked them open. Will’s focus returned, and he watched as well.

When they were undone, he said quietly, “I’ll need you to lean back. Just enough to raise your hips. Put a small amount of weight on your hands.”

After Will had done as instructed, Hannibal divested him of his remaining garment in a smooth unhurried motion. He was pleased to see that he wasn’t so tense that he was unable to reach a state of partial excitement. Hannibal had been sure to administer the sorts of gentle caresses while he was preparing Will that he knew would both relax and arouse him. Once he was unclothed, he stroked Will’s inner thighs and watched intently as his cock responded.

“I’m going to bind you here, now, as I told you about.”

Will swallowed anxiously, but nodded.

Hannibal retrieved the next three items he required: two soft leather cuffs, large enough to encircle Will’s thigh, and the spreader bar.

He leaned the bar vertically against the bench, and began to put one of the cuffs around Will’s left leg a few inches above the knee. He felt a slight tremor in the muscle.

“Just watch as I work, Will. You will know just what I am doing to you that way. Focus on my hands.”

When he had finished with the first, he repeated this with the other cuff. At last, he opened Will’s knees gradually, sliding his hands up above where they were bound, pressing his thighs open widely. Then he took the bar, and attached it to one of the cuffs by a metal ring that opened.

“I am attaching the other one now, Will. Just relax.”

For not being bound to the bed, Will was extremely startled by the degree to which he was immobilized. He stared down at Hannibal’s hands, watching as he carefully restrained his leg, locking the other end of the spreader bar into place.

“Try to relax your hips a little,” Hannibal said quietly, running his hands against the tense muscles. Will looked at himself and gasped at the sight – thighs bound, spread wide, cock on full display.

He whimpered, trying to close his legs, terrified by how exposed he was.

“Hannibal!” Will shifted, breath quickening. The undercurrent of anxiety that had been present from the beginning threatened to spill over into overt panic as he struggled. Hannibal stood swiftly, attempting to stop his descent into outright fear.

Despite his alarm, he was immensely pleased that Will didn’t beg him to stop. Stepping between his spread thighs, he wrapped a hand around the back of Will’s head, holding him gently.

“I need you to take a deep breath. You’re doing wonderfully.”

He nodded shakily and tried to swallow several times, mouth suddenly very dry. Still panting, he licked his lips, feeling terribly ungrounded. “Please, Hannibal,” he tried to look at the other man, “please, can I have some water?”

Hannibal smiled, and said, “Of course.”

He departed momentarily, and brought back a glass, helping Will to drink. Carefully placing it to his lips and watching as he swallowed; Will had a concerned look in his eyes, and Hannibal correctly read it as slight distress at being placed in such a helpless position. The real part of this unusual therapy had begun; Will would have to accept the loss of his agency. His expression wasn’t fearful, but rather apprehension that he’d only begun to give up control.

When he was finished drinking, Will nodded. Hannibal took the glass away - and returned with something else that made Will’s eyes widen.

“Do you know what this is?” Hannibal asked.

“No…I…I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Hannibal held the metal and leather device up so Will could look at it carefully. There was a ring in the center, with two thin arms on each side, attached to straps.

“This is known as a spider gag, due to its resemblance to an arachnid when held horizontally. You see?”

He turned it sideways, and it did look like a large metal spider.

“You are going to put that on me? Why?”

“Yes, that is my intention. The ring is inserted behind your teeth, and fastened securely. And the reason why is to prevent you from clamping your mouth shut or biting your lip to avoid making sounds. Just as you are doing now.”

Sure enough, Will was at that very moment trying to stifle a whimper by holding his bottom lip between his teeth. Obviously Hannibal had noted this behavior in the past.

Will released his lip, and said haltingly, “I still don’t see why…you want me to…I don’t…”

“One of the ways you try to retain control in intimate situations with me is to keep silent. I believe this prevents you from letting go of your inhibitions, as we have discussed, thus preventing you from truly enjoying the experience. If you are thinking about how to avoid making sound, you are not concentrating on receiving pleasure. Do you understand?”

Will opened and closed his mouth a few times, but began to feel it was useless to argue. He tried to relax as Hannibal placed the ring inside of his mouth, and buckled the straps.

He stood back, and looked pleased. Will had already begun to try to figure out what to do with his tongue.

Hannibal smiled, watching Will’s responses. He poked his tongue through the metal ring and tried to close his lips, before pulling it back again. A reassuring hand found its way to his shoulder, Will trembling slightly from the unfamiliar situation.

“You’ll find it marginally difficult to swallow, and you may notice an increase in saliva. You shouldn’t feel any discomfort however, but the sensation may feel strange.”

Hannibal stepped forward again and rested his other hand against his shoulder. He wanted to let Will become accustomed to experiencing pleasure from simple touching before moving on to more involved sensations.

“I want you to close your eyes, Will.” He kept them open for a moment, but they fell shut when Hannibal began trailing a hand along his neck. He sighed, leaning into the touch, the other man’s warm hands brushing down his chest before straying intentionally across his nipples.

Will gasped loudly, arching his back, the blush returning to his cheeks as he shivered. Hannibal smirked, satisfied, and caressed him again, a deep groan falling from his lips.

Leaning down, he slid his fingers along Will’s scalp, gently winding his hands through the unruly curls. He tugged carefully, guiding the other man’s head back, exposing his throat.

Above him, Will moaned quietly, and Hannibal pressed his lips against his Adam’s apple, feeling the slight shudder as he swallowed. Humming appreciatively, he tongued along the pale flesh before hovering over Will’s ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth. He bit softly, and by the time he released him, Will’s breath had quickened, a needy little sound that pleased Hannibal greatly.

“You’re doing perfectly,” Hannibal breathed, sending another shiver cascading down Will’s back.

Touching him more firmly, Hannibal placed broad hands on Will’s widely spaced thighs. Leaning more, he continued trailing soft, but insistent kisses down Will’s collarbone. He lingered at each spot, until he coaxed sounds from Will’s open mouth, each more desperate than the last.

Working ever downwards, when he got to Will’s chest, teeth were pressed with only the promise of sharpness into one sensitive nipple.

He could hear Will’s heart pounding, being this close. The sounds he was making now more closely resembled gasps, as he seemed unable to breathe regularly. He stopped, allowing a brief reprieve, and straightened up, looking down at Will. As his breathing regulated, a thin stream of drool had begun to flow freely from one side of his parted lips. When he realized the contact had ceased, Will opened his eyes that had been tightly shut.

Once fully standing, Hannibal pulled his red cardigan off, as Will watched carefully. He could read unmasked want on Will’s face. He slowly, deliberately, untied the drawstring of his light pajama pants. When he stopped short of removing them, he met Will’s dark gaze. The look in them clearly said _Don’t stop_.

Hannibal pushed them down over his hips, revealing by inches his partially hard cock. Will let out the breath he’d been keeping in with a long, shaky sigh. The pants removed, Hannibal could now easily tease Will by stroking his length until he was fully hard. Will groaned with longing, becoming less self-conscious by degrees. Hannibal smiled at the effect.

Not breaking the eye contact, Hannibal lowered himself to his knees in front of Will’s spread legs. Will watched him intently; as he went down, the firelight shadowed his face, and as his hair fell loosely across his forehead. Will managed to swallow marginally, but the wet trail from his mouth grew in volume as he sighed deeply at this sight, and his anticipation of what was to come.

Hannibal stroked Will’s sides, lowering his head between his bound legs. Maintaining eye contact, he pressed his lips to the soft skin of his inner thighs, tongue darting out to slide hot against him. He bit down lightly, letting him become accustomed to the sensation.

Will watched for a moment, before his eyes went wide. A loud pleading noise tumbled from his open mouth as Hannibal sank his teeth in again, harder this time. He worried the delicate skin and sucked a livid bruise into his pale flesh. Will shook violently, moaning uncontrollably as Hannibal trailed a hand up his ribs. Neatly trimmed nails scratched pleasantly up his body, until a hand strayed across his chest, fingers closing sharply over a nipple.

Will cried out abruptly, body jerking from the unexpected shock. Hannibal made a pleased noise against the red, flushed skin of his thigh, gentling his touch there, even as he pinched again.

Head falling forward, Will breathed harshly and noisily, saliva sliding down his trembling bottom lip and landing on his heaving chest. With an approving look from Hannibal, he slid fingers through the wetness, gathering it, before pressing a slick finger to swollen head of Will’s straining cock. He whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Will. I want you to watch.” With difficulty, he opened his eyes, staring dazedly down at the other man. Hannibal smiled and reached up, carefully pressing two fingers between the gag, into his wet, open mouth. As his tongue pushed involuntarily against the metal bar, Hannibal pulled his hand back, rubbing Will’s own increasing saliva against his weeping cock.

“Beautiful,” Hannibal said darkly, a shuddering cry falling from Will’s lips.

Just one finger, trailing smoothly up and down the hard length, was enough to elicit a long, low groan from Will, who was trying his best to comply with the command to watch. Sensation upon sensation built, slowly, so gradually; if Will hadn’t been watching, he would have not been able to understand. Every light stroke, every sweep of Hannibal’s thumb across the head, was like another instrument being added to the composition of his building need. Light touches became firmer; another finger added, and another. Until finally, Hannibal’s thumb met his forefinger, and he encircled Will’s surging cock with his broad hand.

Still going agonizingly slow, he watched Will’s face, and his increasingly erratic breathing. More pressure and faster strokes made it more irregular still. Will now had enough friction on his cock to thrust upward into Hannibal’s hand, trying to gain even more sensation. Hannibal was taking him to the edge of release.

Will was watching with perfect attention now, as he exhaled small, frequent sounds of bliss.

Hannibal sighed at the deep, melodic noise that had taken on the same rhythm as his caresses. “Good. Just like that. There is nothing holding you back now. Nothing to keep you from focusing on how this feels.”

When Will’s panting became a keening wail, and more precum than before was leaking from his cock, Hannibal gradually slowed his hand and decreased the compression. Will’s breath hitched in his lungs as he realized Hannibal wasn’t going to allow him to cum yet.

“This is not something I would permit to end so soon, Will. There’s so much more to come.”

He stared wide-eyed up at Hannibal, his expression pleading, breathless gasps and whimpers echoing in the quiet room. Forgetting his physical state, his confinement, he tried to speak, begging Hannibal to touch him again. It came out as an unintelligible sob, tongue pressing rhythmically against his gag as he whined.

Will leant toward him, seeking contact, both to soothe his heightened state of excitement and to calm his frantic breathing. The gesture pleased Hannibal greatly – not only was Will descending into a state of deep, unrestrained arousal, he was consciously seeking out touch.

He wrapped a hand around the back of Will’s neck for a moment, before sliding his fingers down between his shoulder blades, trailing his hand across the sweat-slicked skin. Delighted at how responsive Will was becoming, he felt him shudder and groan.

In one swift, fluid motion, Hannibal pulled his hand back, sinking gracefully to his knees between Will’s restrained legs. Gasping, startled, he lifted his hips to inch closer to the other man, his cock weeping and full against his belly.

“You’re doing, very, very well,” Hannibal praised, a shadow passing over his face as his head descended between Will’s trembling thighs.

Will couldn’t see what Hannibal was doing, but he was fairly certain he recognized the sound of the cap of a bottle of lube being flicked open with one hand. He knew he was right when a slick finger lightly touched his entrance. He had been so focused on the fact that Hannibal had brought him close, oh so tantalizingly close to release before, that he barely registered the fact that he was spread and exposed.

“Are you ready, Will?” Hannibal’s voice sounded heavier, richer, and so much darker.

Will could only nod slightly, and gasp out a choked little sound. He was past ready.

It was hypnotic, Hannibal circling his hole, just lightly pressing in, pulling out, invading him just a fraction more each time. It was so gradual, it didn’t even register as pain, but more as a gently increasing pressure. It made him want to do anything but resist. Before he knew it, the single digit was curling against his prostate. Hannibal’s finger brushed it with each incursion, and Will tried in vain to increase the contact. Hannibal never changed the tempo of the thrusting; all the way in, all the way out, circling the rim just slightly before entering again.

But just as Will felt the heat gathering in his abdomen, as it had before, Hannibal stopped entirely. Before Will had time to register the change, Hannibal wrapped his hand around his cock as before, pumping him lightly, then more firmly. Only this time, the strokes were accompanied by another finger added to the first, pushing inside with the same technique of circling, stretching, in and in further by degrees. It was perfectly synchronized with the hand wrapped around his weeping length.

Will’s heart began to hammer, felt the blood singing in his ears. He was vaguely aware of sounds of desperation falling from his open lips.

The gentle stretch of Hannibal’s fingers and the rhythmic motion against his cock left Will moaning in time to the movements, his breath coming in increasingly shallow gasps. Eyes very wide, he stared down at Hannibal, so beside himself in unrestrained pleasure that he held the other man’s gaze directly.

“Perfect, Will, so beautiful,” Hannibal praised quietly, terribly proud of the progress he was making. At once, he gently withdrew his fingers from Will’s hole even as he slid his hand from his straining cock. Breath catching painfully in his lungs, Will shuddered violently, arching up to maintain the contact he lost.

His hips thrust into the space between them and he howled, distressed, so desperate for release that tears had begun to spill down his face. Hannibal watched, approvingly, as Will seemed to not even notice saliva pooling from behind the gag, trickling slowly down his chin.

Ever-increasing moisture had started to gather across his sweat-slicked shoulders and down the deep flush that was marking his body. Hannibal pressed gentle fingers against his slick collarbones to soothe him, trailing his hand up to brush his fringe from his eyes.

Will felt the first tendrils of consciousness begin to unravel in his addled mind as Hannibal continued his calming ministrations; he was gloriously dizzy, head falling back with a deep groan at the sensation. Hannibal grinned, caressing his cheek, before twining his fingers through the sweat-soaked curls at the back of his neck. He guided him forward, wanting the other man to lean against him and rest, easing his frantic, troubled breathing.

As the contact between them became more normal to Will, he began to calm. Hannibal waited until then to kiss the side of his neck, still trailing fingers gently across the wetness of his chest. From there, he slipped a hand behind his back, to take some of the pressure off of his shoulders for a moment.

“Will, I need to know if you are still capable of staying like this. You’re not in pain?”

Will shook his head; he wasn’t hurting, exactly, but completely unsure of how much more he could stand for entirely different reasons.

“Good,” Hannibal breathed into his ear, and rewarded him by sucking at his earlobe.

Hand on Will’s upper arm now, he gathered some of the mix of sweat and saliva that had collected at Will’s collarbones, and began stroking his hard, thick length as he stood there. He closed his eyes and tipped back his head, enjoying the hungry, choked off gasps of the bound man beneath him, who was watching, enraptured.

He didn’t stop as he sank back down to his knees, and looked up at Will with the wickedest expression he’d had yet. His free hand gently guided Will’s red, throbbing cock to brush against his upper lip. When he placed the flat of his tongue just under its head, the moan that was torn from Will’s open mouth was deep and steady. This treatment was as much a tease as it was a giving of pleasure, because he only used just enough pressure with lips and tongue, as he ranged up and down Will’s hardness, to make his cock surge and leak. Hannibal knew the moment he took Will fully into his mouth, he’d cum instantaneously, and he wasn’t finished yet.

The sounds Will was making brought Hannibal closer to release, as he continued to give himself the contact he denied Will. In stripping before him, he’d wanted to show Will that’s what he was doing, and would do, all the time he was once again so torturously between Will’s trembling thighs.

Will wanted to beg, with every last shred of strength he wanted to plead for Hannibal to let him cum. He was being reduced down to glorious sensation. He had become entirely dependent on the pleasure that Hannibal had sent burning through his overtaxed body with the touch of his lips, so faint against his aching flesh.

Small whimpers and needy moans seemed the only sounds he was capable of, as the other man’s expression sent a violent shiver down his back. Will tried to lift himself, to rock his hips closer to the curve of Hannibal’s lips, but his own body betrayed him, too beside himself with longing to coordinate the movement.

A mischievous smirk flashed across Hannibal’s features as he pressed his tongue gently against the wet slit of Will’s leaking cock. He watched as his head fell back, throat exposed and pulse hammering wildly in his neck. He did it again, coaxing a strangled sob from the man above him.

These sounds were going straight through Hannibal’s entire body. As he was tormenting Will with the smallest caresses of his tongue, he had been stroking himself in time to the open-mouthed cries, which were taking on a lyrical quality all their own. Where he excelled in the amount of control and ability to prolong Will’s release, he was increasingly unable to postpone his own.

One more set of movements with his lips, one more symphonic wave of noises that crashed against his ears like waves; he was of and a part of Will’s frantic undying lust. It became his.

Sure, feline grace as Hannibal brought himself slowly to his feet, pleading moans drawing him up, as Will realized he was going to be denied yet again. It was maddening, the thought that somehow, this could go on into infinity.

Hannibal leaned with a firm grip on Will’s shoulder, never stopping the faster and faster movements of his other hand, leaning over Will. Seeing the fear in his eyes, not from what was being done, but from what he feared would not be done, he felt the need to bring him off the cliff’s edge of panic.

In between breathy gasps of arousal, he said in a low, thick voice, “Almost time for you, Will. Do you trust me?”

The fear receded and was replaced with compliance. This, in the context of Hannibal’s utter control, was better even than pushing him past the limits of what he could take. He entwined his fingers in Will’s plastered hair, and held his perfectly open mouth right where he wanted it to be. It was a pity the ring of the spider gag was too small; he would have liked to have pushed his cock down Will’s throat, but that might have been more than his mental state could cope with.

Instead, he watched as Will received the first great surge of cum between his parted lips, followed by another, and another; the most satisfying thing of all was to try to watch him dutifully swallow it down, only to struggle, and have most of it merge with the flowing line of drool that spilled endlessly down his heaving chest. He could only breathe through his nose as his throat was filled.

Hannibal needed the steadying brace of his hands wrapped through Will’s hair, which he tightened into painfully. His upper lip curled in gratification, pleased at Will’s attempts to take everything he gave, however futile they ultimately were.

When it was finally over, Hannibal relinquished his grip, and touched the underside of Will’s jaw, soaked and dripping.  “I’m so terribly pleased with you. You’re perfect like this.”

Moaning quietly at those words, Will rested against his hand, Hannibal’s fingers moving from his jaw to cradle the side of his head. He wanted to please him so desperately, even as his tenuous hold on consciousness slipped farther from his grasp. There was one final, frantic attempt to swallow the remains of his cum, and then Will’s head was dropping forward, the last of it falling in a thick trail toward his own aching cock.

Hannibal rubbed a warm hand against Will’s side, murmuring encouraging noises as he struggled. Staring up into his eyes, Will watched as the other man sank down, pressing his lips to the space between the soft leather straps of the gag.

“Do you think you can take some more?” Hannibal whispered, close to Will’s ear.

He squeezed his eyes closed, shuddering at the soft exhalation of breath, so near to his face. Shaking his head fiercely, a series harsh, desperate little sobs spilled from his mouth as he cried.

“Oh Will,” Hannibal said gently, combing his fingers through the damp curls behind his ear. He brushed at a stray tear that tumbled down his flushed cheek, “I think you can. Let’s try, shall we?”

Will took a sharp breath as Hannibal’s hand trailed down his slick body. Every nerve felt tight as a taut bow. Pressure and release, touches light and heavy, all made him more aware of the line he had yet to cross, and needed to, so desperately. Hannibal sinking back down, yet again, between his thighs brought no hope of release this time. He was certain that he’d be held on this event horizon forever, never being pushed passed the point of no return to let gravity take him down.

When he felt the probing, rougher this time, at his willing entrance, he bore into it unhesitatingly. Whatever Hannibal would give, he wanted. Even endless false hope.

This was where Hannibal wanted Will to be, this point of giving himself over, even when he believed it would bear no fruit. Surrender only for its own sake, and none other; past pleading, even if he were able to do so. He pressed into him, stretching, just missing his prostate each time. Watching as his cock leaked freely, surging with each intrusion. Hannibal drank it in, both figuratively and literally, the salt of it a thing he would sear into his memory. Will twitched into the contact, and Hannibal began to draw his tongue up and over the slit, pressing in, until he finally gave in to his own unfulfilled need to taste more. He waited until he felt Will take a deep breath.

Three fingers pushed hard into Will, all the way, and at the same time, Hannibal fully swallowed Will’s cock all the way down, aimed at the back of his throat. Will’s sinews and muscles first stiffened, then released, and Hannibal felt the pulsing from inside of his body as at long last he collapsed in on himself like a singularity. Hannibal felt all the air forced from Will’s lungs in the form of a low, animal scream. He held him there, surge after surge, his free hand on his hip to trap him in place. He tried to buck into Hannibal’s warm, tight mouth, but wasn’t permitted. There was no way to misconstrue this as anything other than a taking.

Will offered himself up then, fully and completely, to the pleasure and sensation he had always denied himself. Even greater than that, he offered himself up to Hannibal. He lay bare before the other man, stripped of everything and more open in that moment than just his physical body could ever be.

A curious feeling washed over him - as if a weight had been taken from his mind and in its place there settled great calm, even as his body continued to tense so brutally. The feeling of unending release seemed to seep into the very core of his being, past the bone-weary exhaustion that was beginning to pull and tug, so insistently, at his limbs.

Being denied the ability to thrust into Hannibal’s mouth made his talented ministrations that much more intense against Will’s pulsing cock. His eyes locked onto Hannibal’s, holding his gaze. There was only the dim acknowledgement that he was still screaming, still coming hard down Hannibal’s throat, until he was sure he was going to break apart at any moment from the strain of it all.

Hannibal swallowed around him once more, the heat from his mouth the last thing Will felt before surrendering to the final, violent shudders of orgasm. Darkness pulled him down so swiftly that he descended without a single thought, the sound of his own screams echoing in his ears.

To Will, an unknown amount of time ticked by before he finally resurfaced, moaning softly around his gag. He opened his eyes slowly at the feeling of a large, soothing hand splayed against his sweat-slicked chest. Hannibal’s thumb circled over the thundering of Will’s heart as he struggled to breathe; beaming up at him, pride creased the corners of his eyes as he smiled.

Hannibal guided Will’s head to rest against his chest as he unbuckled the straps of the gag. He held Will’s jaw as he gently took the ring from between his teeth, and finally Will could move the lower half of his face again. It felt odd to be able to close his mouth. His tongue, having been exposed to the air for so long, felt thick in his mouth. He could swallow freely again and realized exactly how raw his throat felt. He spent a few moments just becoming used to the normal operation of his jaw. Hannibal touched his face, and pressed his thumbs into the sorest parts of his joints, testing them for strain.

When he was satisfied that the stiffness would soon leave, he moved to disconnect Will’s thighs from the spreader bar restraints. Once the straps were off, he massaged the flesh that had become red and indented from straining against them. He slowly drew Will’s legs together, to ease the tension on his hips. He turned him parallel on the bench, so that he could straighten them, and lean forward to give Hannibal better access to the laces on the armbinder.

Getting Will out of this he did most gradually of all. First he loosened it, so Will’s arms could go slack without putting any tension on them or letting his muscles and tendons take over any of the work of support. Next he unbuckled the shoulder straps that crisscrossed behind his back, which allowed a small portion of mobility to return. He could flex his shoulders forwards again, and here Hannibal began to massage them skillfully, giving specific attention to each muscle group, ensuring that the soreness later on would be kept to a minimum.

“I am going to unlace you fully now, Will. Try not to lean back before I tell you to.” Hannibal said these words to Will very quietly, his tone comforting rather than commanding. Coming out of the state he’d been in had to be done slowly, not only to avoid causing mental confusion, but also to preserve its impact long afterwards.

The binder was slipped off. Hannibal loosely held Will’s arms in place before allowing him to move again. He gently moved them to the front of his body, guided him to lie back fully, and laid them lightly at his sides.

“Stay still for a moment,” he said softly, as he took a small towel that had been waiting nearby, and began to mop the damp mess of Will’s face and torso. He pressed into his flesh where the straps had marked him, and kissed each red mark, his lips memorizing the impressions they’d made.

Will had no desire to move, as Hannibal cleaned him; he was content was to rest quietly and let himself be maneuvered as the other man saw fit. He was drifting, floating pleasantly in the aftermath of all that had taken place, and sighed deeply when he felt the press of Hannibal’s lips against his reddened skin.

The exhaustion that was settling in his body freed his mind to wander – his thoughts were uncomplicated. Easy. He wanted nothing more than to sink into bed with Hannibal touching him.

He smiled up at the other man, watching with a heavy-lidded gaze as he took the towel away, disappearing into the en suite. Will let his eyes fall shut. Coming back to partial awareness moments later, he felt himself lifted forward, Hannibal putting a small glass of cold water to his lips as he had earlier in the evening. Not bothering to open his eyes, Will drank enough to ease the soreness in his throat before it was withdrawn.

Hannibal left and returned once more, slipping an arm under Will’s knees, the other across his shoulders. He lifted him easily, moving the few feet to the bed, and laying him out. Will felt a cool sheet settle atop him, rather than the plush duvet, for which he was incredibly grateful. The bed dipped on the opposite side as Hannibal stretched out next him. Not wanting to disturb the state Will had fallen into, processing all that had taken place, Hannibal kept his touches light – fingertips moving along his sides, the careful movement of his hand on Will’s shoulder.

Almost certain he had fallen asleep, his breathing having taken on the deep rhythm of slumber, Hannibal was slightly surprised when he moved toward him, rolling to his side and reaching out. The pace was Will’s to set, and Hannibal felt the rush of victory when he finally sought out touch, of his own accord, snaking his arms around Hannibal’s back and resting against his chest.

“Am I still your work in progress?” Will asked quietly, lifting his head enough to look up at Hannibal.

Hannibal placed a lingering kiss on his forehead, feeling the heat still radiating off of his entire body as he held him lightly.

After Will began to relax, drifting certainly off to sleep this time, Hannibal spoke just before he succumbed.

“The master only reveals what is inherent in the untouched block of marble. The work is to uncover what is already there.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from a play called "Sardanapalus" by Byron. 
> 
> Special thanks to [trr-rr](http://trr-rr.tumblr.com/) for suggesting the spider gag! Finally used this great idea.


End file.
